


Best Man Speech

by KardiaB



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Father-Son Relationship, Other, Spanking, displeased Greg, uncle Greg - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 19:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16373795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KardiaB/pseuds/KardiaB
Summary: Answering Sherlock's distress call, Lestrade drops the Waters Gang case and hurrys to Baker Street to find Sherlock perfectly fine and writing his Best Man speech. Angry beyond words he brings the consulting detective to John and Mary's house to be dealt with.





	Best Man Speech

The sheet of notes was dropping to the floor slowly as the helicopter outside blew the curtains. Lestrade was standing in the door, panting from chasing through London on high-speed and running up the stairs to 221b expecting murder or worse.

“Anecdotes”, he breaths stunned, before slowly dropping over to boiling point. “You did not ask me here for anecdotes. You called for help”, he yells at the younger man.  
“Seriously, Sherlock”, he says, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, straightening his jacket and his hair.

“Get in the car”, he orders, pointing in the direction of the stairs.

“You know I don’t ride in police cars and I’m not going anywhere.” Sherlock says stubbornly and crosses his arms.

“Yes, you are.” Lestrade grabs his upper arm sharply and drags an only slightly struggling Sherlock down the stairs.

Two police cars storm around the corner, coming to a screeching halt in front of them effectively blocking any incoming traffic. Police officers jump out and look at Lestrade for guidance. 

“All clear”, he calls to them. “Just a misunderstanding.”

“See”, Sherlock bugs in, “just a misunderstanding. No need to…”

But Lestrade only needs to strengthen his grip and Sherlock falls silent, letting himself be led to Lestrade’s car, resigned to his fate.

They drive for a little more than thirty minutes in uncomfortable silence, before they stop in front of a cosy house in a nice neighbourhood. Lestrade cuts the engine and steps out, opening the safety-locked backdoor for Sherlock.

“Come on, time to face the music.” Sherlock gets out timidly, waiting patiently on the sidewalk for Lestrade to close the door and lock the car.

“Could you please not tell them?” Sherlock asks meekly, trudging along the few steps to the door as slowly as he dares.

“I won’t”, Lestrade says and Sherlock looks at him hopefully before his hope is crushed by the look on Lestrade’s face.

“You’re going to make me tell them.”

The door is opened before they get to knock and John is standing there, tightening his bathrobe around the waist.

“Greg? What happened”, he asks while checking over Sherlock with a quick glance.

Lestrade nudges Sherlock.

“There was a misunderstanding…” he starts. But Greg snorts and shows John his phone with the text massages. 

“Sherlock, what happened? Was there a break-in, were you hurt?” He checks him over more carefully now, looking for injuries and turning Sherlock around where he is standing to have a look at his back.

Mary is coming outside as well. “Is he all right?”

“My reaction exactly”, Lestrade chimes in. “I dropped the Waters gang case when we were about to catch them in the act and ordered maximum backup on my way to Baker Street.”

He turns to Sherlock still angry at the lost case. “Tell them what you wanted.”

“I needed anecdotes for the Best-Man-Speech.” 

“Oh Sherlock”, Mary huffs disappointment mixed with underlying humour in her voice.

Johns face skips the humour and changes straight from worried to angry.

“Go to your room”, he orders sharply stepping out of the way to let Sherlock duck in and hurry to obey. 

“Would you like to come in”, he asks Greg.

“Yeah, why not? When I get back now, I will only have to deal with the paperwork.”

Mary leads him to the sofa and he plops down, burying his face in his hands. John takes the seat opposite of him.

“Aren’t you going to deal with him?” 

“In a moment, let him simmer for a bit.”

Mary comes and places a cup of tea in the detective’s hands, taking the seat on John’s armrest and nudging him over.

“Yeah, all right.” John huffs and stands up, leaving his seat for his soon to be wife.

When he enters Sherlock’s room without knocking, the detective is sitting at the end of his bed, watching him warily. 

“Not good?” Sherlock asks already knowing the answer.

“No, not good at all”, John confirms taking a seat on the bed next to Sherlock.  
“Do you know the story about the boy who screamed wolf?”

“Are you going to tell me a children’s story?”

“It’s a very short story about a shepherd boy who got bored and screamed wolf. All the village people ran to help him, but realized, they were wasting their time. When a while later really a wolf came the boy screamed again, but no one believed him and he got eaten.”

Sherlock squirms a little uncomfortable but still gives humour a try.

“And Lestrade is the village idiot?” It does not go as planned, when John’s face sets to stormy and he stands up straight.

“Bend over.” He orders coldly and steps aside to give Sherlock space.

“No please. I get it. I should not lie about my safety. I won’t do it again.” Sherlock starts to back-paddle immediately, “Please, John.”

“What do you call me?”

Sherlock slumps visibly, feeling small all at once.

“Please Daddy”, he begs meekly, “Please don’t spank me. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, and you will be even more so, when I’m done with you. Sorry enough to apologize to Uncle Greg for worrying him.”

While speaking John had manoeuvered Sherlock bend over under his arm, trapping him there with his body and giving himself excellent availability of his intended target area.

Sherlock jumps mostly of surprise when John’s hand impacts forcefully on his bum the first time. He knows there are plenty more to endure and that he will probably be crying at the end of it.

John spanks in a steady rhythm, laying blow after blow evenly all over Sherlock’s bottom and the tender under-curve, where bum meets thigh. He ignores his own smarting hand as he listens to Sherlock sob and snivel quietly. 

“All right”, he says, letting Sherlock out of his grip, “Pants down.”

“No please, Daddy, no more.” Sherlock sobs heartbreakingly.

“Shh, I think you’ve had enough, but let me check for bruising, please”, John says in a calming tone.

Sherlock knows the drill and does not want to risk any extra smacks for tardiness or disobedience, so he opens his trousers and pushes them down to his knees.  
Turning around still snivelling he bends to put his hands on the bed, leaving John to lower his underwear to take a glance at his red backside.

“It’s fine”, John confirms, pulling the underwear back up carefully, “Are you ready to apologise?” 

Sherlock nods and pulls up his trousers carefully.

John leads him back into the sitting room where Greg puts his cup down on the table to give Sherlock his full attention.

“’m sorry”, Sherlock mumbles looking down chastised. John gives him a gentle nudge to make him speak up.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Greg”, Sherlock repeats dutifully. 

“You gave me a real scare there, Sherlock.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Please don’t do that again, okay?”

“Uhmm, won’t.”


End file.
